When the door to his quarters slides open, Picard seems not terribly surprised to see Q lounging in a chair, still wearing his white robes. He does, however, seem annoyed. "What are you doing here?"
Q raises an eyebrow. "Are you always going to be so boorish when we meet, Jean-Luc? Whatever happened to 'I owe him a debt of gratitude?'" he echoes, mimicking Picard's tone.
Picard's mouth twists as though he's bitten into a lemon. "Don't you have anything better to do with your supposed omnipotence than eavesdrop?"
Q crosses his arms and grins. "Not a thing."
"Very well," Picard says. "I suppose I do owe you thanks. But I must ask: why? Why did you save me?"
"Save you?" Q arranges his face into one of his better sneers and stands to face Picard. "Jean-Luc, I was making a point about how dreadfully dull you've become."
Picard's eyebrows arch and he almost smiles, which is annoying. "Dull?"
"Compared to dashing, bold Johnny, you're nothing but an old stick-in-the-mud," Q jeers. "Why, you wouldn't know an adventure or an opportunity if it bit you on the nose. No, Jean-Luc, this was an attempt to make you realize that you've become an old fuddy-duddy with no courage to really take a risk."
The amusement in Picard's eyes fades to something that's both challenging and assessing. It’s rather a charming look for him, but Q would never say so. "Oh really?"
Q stepped closer. "Really. The you that you've become wouldn't dare to do something truly outrageous. Always playing it safe, always keeping it cool. Maybe you knew about passion as a boy, but as a man you've learned not to indulge in any kind of messy impulse to have fun or take a chance." Picard is glaring at him now, and Q leans in even closer, until their noses are almost touching. Come on, Jean-Luc. Don't make me have re-arranged space and time for nothing, you glorious, nettling man. "You don't have the guts,” he hisses.
The annoyance in Picard's eyes shifts abruptly into laughter, and Q must have been quite distracted, because he doesn't see it coming when Picard grabs his toga and drags him close. "Don't I?" he whispers challengingly, and kisses Q with a passion that is indeed rather boyish and entirely bold.
Q throws his arms around his laughing Johnny and leans into the kiss, triumphant.